


A Court of Dreams fanfic

by thesurielships



Series: Feysand One-shots [4]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Inner Circle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24773287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesurielships/pseuds/thesurielships
Summary: The Inner Circle meets up to rant about Feysand.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Series: Feysand One-shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791676
Comments: 3
Kudos: 72





	A Court of Dreams fanfic

None of the Court of Dreams knew how it had started. Somehow, it had become a habit to have dinner together every other Friday, away from the townhouse and the two lovebirds residing there. It had also become a way to cope with the tension and stress of watching two unmated mates (this, they had all figured out on their own, and agreed tacitly to not comment on) circle around each other.

“I’m sure a mental bond is nice and all,” Cassian began. “But do they really have to flirt through it _all. day. long_?” His voice was getting louder and his hand gestures more and more animated. “I have never had a worse pupil. Not only does she have no control over her power - she could incinerate me if she’s not careful enough, her mind is always wandering away. Cauldron boil me, he keeps her distracted from a whole mountain away!”

Mor let out an all suffering sigh. “I honestly never thought being his Third would mean pretending not to see him puff his chest every time she’s around, or unnecessarily making a show of his powers. I’ve seen some gruesome shit in my life, but I discovered a new level of gross when I watched my cousin purr at his crush.”

“The purring!” Cassian repeated, slamming his hand on the table. “Is my High Lord some sort of feline? Is he a cat in heat?”

“That’s a rather apt comparison,” Amren mused from where she was leaning in her seat, using a wicked blade to clean her nails.

“Breathe a little, Cassian,” Mor chuckled. “Weren’t you the one always telling him to get his game on and get some?”

“When I told him to get some,” he replied wearily, “I meant _some_! This is too fucking much!”

“I don’t really care what they do in their spare time.” Azriel began in a quiet voice, and all three of his companions rose to attention. “But they live together for Cauldron’s sake. Must they insist on getting it on when we’re away on business?”

“What irks me the most,” Amren said, eyes flashing, the hilt of her knife groaning under her grip, “is that he dared ask _me_ to bed, but doesn’t have the guts to ask a 19 year old girl who thinks the sun shines out of his ass.”

“Feyre _is_ more of a catch,” Mor mused.

Azriel was alarmed. He instinctively reached for Truth Teller as those otherworldly eyes glittered dangerously.

“You’d barely fill a tenth of his bed,” Cassian added, a shit eating grin on his face.

The restaurant grew very, very still.

Azriel watched his friends straightening up in their seats, grins growing sharp. He fumbled for something to say that would dissolve the tension and save the lives of everyone present.

“Notes. They exchange notes. Did you notice?” he asked, stumbling over the words.

“I think that’s rather cute of them,” Mor said, leaning back in her seat, legs crossed.

Cassian leaned back as well, draping an arm on the back of her chair. “Rather rude when they zone out of the conversation though.”

Amren was still in a dangerous position, but the storm seemed to have left her eyes. Azriel took a deep breath, which he choked on as Feyre’s voice made them all jump out of their skins.

“Hello, guys.”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my court meeting behind my back,” Rhys drawled at her side. “I hope you’re not plotting a _coup_. It would be a shame to hang you all for treason.”

They gave him uneasy smiles. It was really a testament to how much their High Lord trusted them, because they looked as guilty as a kid with a chocolate covered mouth and a hand deep in the cookie jar.

“How come you guys are out of the house? Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Cassian asked, to which Mor snickered.

Feyre rolled her eyes. “ _Someone_ kept making fun of my cooking skills, when he can’t even be bothered to boil an egg!”

“I am the High Lord of the Night Court,” Rhys said, chest puffing. “Boiling eggs does not fall under my jurisdiction.”

“You’re just making up excuses because you have no kitchen skills whatsoever.”

“Believe me, Feyre darling. I have plenty of skills in the kitchen.”

If Rhys’s dirty grin and Feyre’s ferocious blush were not indication enough, the obscene smell that soon assaulted their nostrils was a dead giveaway as to what was going on in that mental bond of theirs.

The Inner Circle exchanged a meaningful look.

“This has been delightful, but I gotta run,” Mor said as she quickly put on her jacket, and was out the door in a moment.

“Me too,” Cassian muttered as he bolted after her.

Rhys and Feyre blinked at the two vacant seats where their friends had just been, then at Azriel who was rapidly fading into shadow.

“Spy business,” he whispered before disappearing completely.

Amren simply smirked at the incredulous couple, before striding away with a wink, heading to their second meeting place away from the nauseating lovebirds.

“What was that?” Rhys asked.

Feyre inched closer, and took a whiff of his scent where his neck met his shoulders.

“Must be your smell.”

Rhys’s pupils flared.

Feyre gave him a knowing smile.

And they were both so far gone into their little game that they didn’t even notice the restaurant hurriedly emptying out.


End file.
